Monsters
by Batsy-baby
Summary: -Our Love is just a monster with two heads- (Batman X Joker)
1. Chapter 1

It had started with the brushing of bodies, with panted breaths in the crisp Gotham night. This in itself was not uncommon, the bodies in question moving as though in a dance only they knew. And oh, how well they knew it! Night after night, they moved in unison, fists swinging and legs kicking, each grappling desperately to make contact with the other.

Cobalt blue eyes met poisonous green, wild with reckless abandon and held, a deep voice growling out as a large body pinned a lithe one beneath it against the hardened brick wall. "Why?! Night after night you seem to try to outdo yourself! Don't you ever tire of mayhem? Don't you ever run out of energy?!"

A wicked laugh was the reply, a pink tongue darting out to run slowly over sinful ruby lips. "Now Batsy…" Came the slow purr, as the Clown Prince of Crime pressed bruised fingers to the hard Kevlar encased chest of the vigilante. "Why would I get bored when seeing you is so much _fun?_ "

The mischief in those eyes drove the vigilante to madness every time he saw it. Never before had he so thoroughly ached to break his one rule, to put a final end to it. And yet…

"You'd never do it, cupcake, don't try to kid yourself." Joker interrupted, as though he had read the others very mind. "Without me, there is no you. Haven't you gotten it yet? We're _soulmates,_ you and I. Getting rid of our little fun would break you." Another laugh followed, and despite the mocking tone, the Batman felt the words chill him to his very core.

 _Soulmates._

The Joker was even more mad than he had thought. "We are not soulmates, or lovers, or even friends." He snarled, a little harsher than even Joker deserved.

And yet the Clown Prince remained unphased, merely raising a brow and cackling. "Someone's a little _deee-fennn-sivvvvve_ there, Batsy. I don't think I brought up the term lovers, that was you, although…," The wicked smile on his lips only grew as he inched forward, pressing his body tight against the bigger man, running his fingers back up the Kevlar chest piece. "I think I might be able to be persuaded to the idea, cupcake."

Before the vigilante had time to process the words, the Joker lunged forward with all his strength, flipping their positions and pinning the man, the sharp blade of Joker's knife resting at his throat. "After all, I've always wondered what you look like under all that black. Tall… Strong.. Those I already know… But the rest…" He licked his lips slowly, watching as a shiver ran through the man he so leisurely pressed against. Whether it was from disgust or the close proximity, Joker was unsure, although he'd lean for the latter. It didn't matter. All that mattered was getting under his darling cupcakes skin.

"The curiosity makes the game a little more fun, wouldn't you agree? Even still…." The green haired man's free hand lifted slowly, slipping under the edge of the cowl and pushing upwards until the lower half of the vigilante's face was exposed, fingers caressing the firm jaw he found there with sickening sweetness. "I wonder how many of my scars adorn your body… I wonder how many more it'll take for you to know…" Acid green eyes narrowed possessively, tongue darting out to lick his lips once more. "You're _mine._ Not Dent's, not Nigma's, not even that bitch Catwoman's. _Mine._ We were made for each other, cupcake." Leaning forward, the Joker brushed their noses together playfully, before pulling back with a manic laugh, lowering his knife.

The fist that collided with his face was swift and expected, and all the Joker could do was laughing, wiping the first few drops of blood from his nose with the back of his hand. "What a shame, Batsy babe. Maybe I'll have to find someone else if you won't play along." He pouted, shooting the vigilante a wink, a plan already forming in his mind, before jumping over a ledge and vanishing.

Lunging towards the edge of the building, Batman tried to spot the wild green curls he was so familiar with, but it was no use. The Joker had gotten away, leaving the Caped Crusader both angry with himself and more irritated than normal. Oh well. There would certainly be more opportunities to catch the clown.

* * *

"Master Bruce, _please._ I understand you are upset that he got away, but tonight is the charity gala for the children's hospital. I would like to remind you that it _is_ being hosted here, and as such, you are required to make an appearance. Please, sir. Go get ready." Alfred's voice was stern as he urged the other away from the large computer and towards the spiralling staircase that led to the main manor.

"... You're really going to make me do this?" Bruce questioned reluctantly, slipping the cowl off slowly to reveal black locks, plastered to his forehead by droplets of sweat, blue eyes miserable and tired. As if he could argue with Alfred. As if Alfred would let him.

"Tuxedo and all. After all, I did raise a respectable looking man, did I not? Go on now. Guests will be arriving in an hour."

With a defeated sigh, the raven haired man nodded, dragging his fingers through his hair as forced weary feet up the staircase. Some days, it felt as though Bruce Wayne were the mask. After all, it was so much harder to focus on being him, on smiling and keeping up the spoiled rich boy act. _Gotham's Prince._ Yeah, right.

He could only imagine how the city would feel if the truth were ever revealed. Gotham's Prince _and_ its knight? It was a burden to say the least. Still, he forced himself into the role, all thoughts of the joker and that strange possessiveness the criminal had shown slipping from him for the time being as he stepped into the shower, washing away the night.

* * *

Bruce heard the guests arrive before he ever saw them, remaining in the hidden safety of his bedroom as he drug out the process of getting ready, making sure not a single hair was out of place, that everything about his appearance was impeccable. Perfectionism, he would call it. Alfred would call it stalling.

Finally, he made an appearance, calm smile plastered on his lips as he made his way to the stairs, trying to ignore the clapping from those attending. God, how tired he got of these functions. Of having these egotistical people try to boost his ego just to mooch money and influence off of him later. All the same... this gala _was_ for a good cause, even Bruce couldn't deny that. It was in these small ways that he could help Gotham without his mask, could heal her wounded and her desperate.

It was something he prided himself in. It was just one more way she needed him, and he lived up to this role as he did to his other. Sometimes he found himself wondering; if Batman was a mask, but Bruce Wayne felt a disguise too… then where did the real Bruce lie?

Ah, but now was not the time to think of those things.

"Ah, how lovely to see you again!"

"Why yes, of course I would love to attend your son's birthday."

"Darling! Have you lost weight? You look stunning!"

And so it went, the billionaire moving through the crowd shaking hands and flirting with high society's most beautiful women. Hollow, it was hollow.

And then, from the back of the room, came a loud, echoing cackle he knew all too well.


	2. Chapter 2

At hearing the familiar sound, Bruce's blood ran cold. There was no way. There was no way in hell that the Joker was truly here. He supposed in hindsight it made sense- after all, the Joker did love to antagonize Gotham's elite. He took a breath, then another, willing himself to calm down, to deal with the situation rationally. His instincts were urging him to fight, but he quickly suppressed them, silently ushering his guests back towards the wall of the ballroom as the panicked screams began.

Never once did his eyes leave the white skinned man at the entrance.

"What a lovely night for a party! All you're missing is some entertainment, aren't you fortunate I happened along!" Another wicked cackle, fingers pushing jade locks back out of his face.

His eyes slowly scanned the room, as one long, graceful finger tapped at his pale chin, as though in thought. "Ah, but what is a party without a host? Tell me…." He took a menacing step forward, flipping open a switchblade and running it under a woman's chin threateningly. "Where is Bruce Wayne?"

There it was again. That feeling of Bruce's very blood freezing in his veins as he stilled, turning to look at the clown over his shoulder.

 _He knew._

He had to! That was the only explanation, he knew who Bruce was and had come to humiliate and expose him. Squaring his shoulders, the billionaire took a breath and placed a calm smile on his lips as he turned more fully to look at the criminal.

"I'm right here, you can leave her alone." He called out calmly, taking a step forward to separate himself from the others. After all, he didn't doubt that Joker would willingly go through them. Already his mind was racing, trying to figure out the best way to handle this situation without anyone getting harmed, even as those acid green eyes he was so familiar with turned and locked on him once more.

He felt naked without the suit.

Licking his lips, the clown prince took a step forward, a wicked smile on his face even as those eyes lit up. "Brucey-baby, there you are! I was looking everywhere for you, sugar!" A pout tugged at his lips as he flitted towards the raven haired man, ignoring the evident look of confusion on Bruce's face.

 _Brucey-baby?_ Oh dear God, nothing after that could possibly be good. "Have you? I'm not sure we've met before, but I'm sure that if you let these fine people go, we can discuss whatever you wish-" He was interrupted by a pair of long, violet clad legs latching onto his waist, as thin but strong arms rested on his shoulders, a deep crimson burning to his face as his brain quickly tried to process what was going on. There was no gunfire, no death threats, and Joker was… latched rather awkwardly onto him?

Bruce coughed quickly in an attempt to catch his breath, cobalt blue catching those emeralds once more. For a moment, he almost lost himself in them, he'd never seen them as clearly as he did right now, their foreheads rested calmly against one another.

All around them, the whispers began, rumours and speculations about the strange scene in front of them, fear giving way to a morbid curiosity.

"W-What are you doing?" The billionaire questioned, silently cursing himself for the small stutter. After all, this was the Joker, there was no one he was more familiar with. Fear was far from his mind, leaving him in a state of confusion as he continued to try to make sense of the situation. And yet, his heart hammered roughly in his chest, arms instinctively wrapping around the smaller man's lower back to prevent him from falling, tugging the villain that bit closer without much realizing it.

Leaning back in the bigger man's arms, Joker cackled, letting his fingers idly brush across the other's nape playfully. "What am I doing? Oh dear, I suppose that is a good question, isn't it, Brucey-baby? You see, it seems my darling Batsy and I are having a little bit of a tiff. Just a lover's quarrel, nothing we haven't had before. He's been taking me for granted, spending all his time with that catwhore, a terribly mean thing of him to do, wouldn't you agree? So I decided I'd show him just what he's missing out on, and who better than Gotham's most beloved son to teach my mean ole Batsy a lesson?"

Bruce breathed out a sigh of relief, grateful that at least the Joker didn't seem to know just who he was, however that relief was short lived as the full impact of the other's words sank in. If there were gasps or reactions from those around, Bruce didn't hear them, his full attention on the man in his arms. Just what the hell sort of game was the clown playing, anyhow? The raven haired man remained silent a moment, carefully mulling over in his head the best way to handle this when he was pulled from his thoughts by a chin resting on his shoulder. God, he could practically _hear_ the pout in the Clown Prince's voice when he spoke again.

"Come on, Brucey-babe, don't you know it's rude to keep a girl waiting? You'll break my poor little heart!"

"And if I do this…" The words were slow, hesitant. Bruce was careful to take his time, not to say the wrong thing and set the psychopath in his arms off. "You'll let my friends here go, right? Because of course, if you harmed them, it would make me quite upset… if we're together, you don't want to upset me right?" He flashed the man a charming smile, allowing himself to slip into the playboy act he had so perfected. God help him. Never in a million years had he expected to need to use it on the Joker. No, his fists were reserved for that job, but it seemed he had no choice but to negotiate.

"Yes, yes, of course, darling. You have my word, and I'm a man of my word."

It was revolting, even the idea of it. Every fibre of Bruce's skin crawled at the thought and yet- had he not sworn himself to Gotham? Sworn to protect her no matter the cost to himself?

"And just what would this little arrangement entail?" He questioned, voice smooth and silken as he tried to avoid the looks of horror from the others in the room. He could almost hear their thoughts- surely there was no way he was going through with this!

Ah, but for Gotham he would.

"Oh dear, I heard you were a playboy, Brucey-baby, but surely you know what being in a relationship means! I'm not asking much, cupcake. Just a mite of normalcy, is that so bad?"

There it was again, that faux innocence lacing the others tone. He'd heard it before, too many times.

"As long as you promise not to hurt anyone, we have an agreement… Darling." Oh how that word made him ache to vomit, to lose control! Even still, his smile remained as he moved one hand from under the clowns back to cradle that pale face. "Now, how about we let my friends go home, hmm? Seems they've had enough for one night."

The painted man giggled, tapping his lip in thought even as he pressed his cheek into the billionaires palm. Yes, this would work quite well. "From Gotham's knight to its Prince, I dare say that's an upgrade. Does that make me Gotham's Princess?" The joker mused, before waving his hand dismissively. "Yes yes, of course. They can go. Giggles, Punch. Lead em out. And play nice, hear me?" He ordered his men, voice turning serious.

Bruce watched intently as they were led out, relaxing fully only when the last had left. Carefully, he eased the others legs off his waist, opting to take the villains hand instead. "Thank you. I just need a moment to speak to my butler, and then we'll go somewhere and further discuss this, alright?"

Giving a nod, the clown released his hand, licking his lips. "Do hurry back, Brucey, or I might get bored without you."

"Of course, darling." With all the tender care Bruce could force himself to muster, he pressed a sweet kiss to the smaller man's head, before turning and approaching the anxious looking Alfred.

"Master Bruce… What are you doing?" He questioned in a hushed whisper. "This is a bad idea, you know it as well as I do. Please…"

"I'm doing what has to be done, Alfred." The billionaire said firmly. "Please go make some coffee. It's going to be a long night."

* * *

Taking the Joker's hand cautiously, Bruce led him through the winding corridors of the manor until they reached his bedroom, guiding him inside and towards the bed. Trembling hands undid his tie and eased off his suit jacket, before he moved to sit beside the clown on the bed, hesitantly turning to face him. "So… Joker darling…"

"Jack." The joker interrupted. "Sounds a bit better, wouldn't you agree?" His voice was amused and dreamy, and if Bruce didn't know better, he would have doubted the other capable of the things he so often did.

"Jack…" He repeated, unsettled by how easily it slid from his lips. "I think we need to make a few stipulations, alright? No killing as long as we are together. It'd make me very upset, you understand?"

Once more, a pout returned to those sinful red lips, as the man- no, Jack, he reminded himself- curled his fingers into his shirt. "Fine, no killing. But don't even think of running around because I will break that rule." Joker told him firmly.

After all, what good was trying to make his Bat jealous of his new toy did the same thing? No, he was certain that wouldn't be the case. Oh, and wouldn't Batman be enraged to hear the news! It would be a delight, one Joker was counting on.

"Deal. I told you I would be with you as long as you behave yourself, and that means you're the only one who gets my attention." The more Bruce thought about it, the more the situation struck him as an opportunity. Perhaps he could rehabilitate the Joker. There was no harm in trying it, even if he doubted the success of it.

"It's getting late, darling." He murmured, wary feet forcing themselves up and moving towards the dresser, rummaging before pulling out a pair of purple sleep pants and a white t-shirt, handing them to the villain. "We should get some sleep, wouldn't you agree?"

Damn, this Wayne kid was surprisingly sweet, the Joker mused as he took the offered clothes, changing silently. He wasn't his Bats… But the dark haired man was certainly a step up from the loneliness he had been feeling for so long. Maybe this really wouldn't be so bad.

The Clown Prince watched intently as Bruce undressed, eyes shamelessly tracing every inch of the other man's body as the billionaire stripped down to his black silk boxers.

Oh God, how Bruce wanted those eyes off of him! The raven haired man was careful to leave a shirt on, lest the Joker see his scars and figure it out, before slipping under the covers and tugging his new lover to rest against his chest. He didn't even _want_ to know what would happen if Joker really did figure out his secret identity. His skin crawled once more as he wrapped his arms around his arch nemesis, kissing his head and murmuring a goodnight before allowing his exhaustion to take over.

Wrapped up in his arms, cheek resting to his chest, the Jokers heart gave a solitary thump.


	3. Chapter 3

When Bruce awoke in the morning, it was to momentary madness, confusion, and an odd elation he didn't care to put a name to. There was a slender pair of arms wrapped about him, fingers toying sleepily with his hair. The sound of calm, steady breathing filled the room, and for just a moment, Bruce allowed himself to forget the events of the previous night and just savor the feeling of holding and being held. How long had it been since he'd slept with someone, not sex, but truly slept with someone? Years. Perhaps the last time was even when he was a child, crawling into his parents' bed out of fear of the dark.

It wasn't that he didn't have people in his bed, he did, with an alarming frequency. Yet, he never allowed them to stay. There were no arms holding tight, no fingers in his hair, or long legs entwined with his own. Only an empty bed and a coldness in his chest he preferred to pretend wasn't there.

Reality came crashing in all too soon. There was no real intimacy in this hold after all- it was his arch nemesis in his arms, in his bed, and he was doing this all for Gotham. She was his true love, the only constant he had. This quiet peacefulness the morning held was only a ruse, another way he showed his love for her.

Gently, so as not to startle the man in his arms, Bruce forced his fingers to run through those jade curls that had taunted him so many nights, letting his fingers glide down to the criminal's cheeks, caressing with a tenderness he had worked hard to perfect. "Jack…" He murmured softly, arms tightening around the clown and easing him closer, willing away the surge of nausea that rose up in his stomach. "Jack, honey, it's morning."

A sleepy groan was the reply, a dazed and tired joker looking at him through his lashes, one hand lifting to rub at tired eyes. "Too early…" He mumbled, hand moving from his eyes to the mop of curls atop his head. "Mnnn.. Morning Brucey-babe." The clown leaned up, brushing their lips together lightly, his voice husky with his exhaustion, yet somehow satin all the same. He felt the billionaire stiffen in surprise under him for only a moment before relaxing under him, pressing back lightly into the kiss. Joker couldn't say he truly blamed the man- he imagined his scars were a feeling that needed some time to get used to, and in his sleepy state he was willing to allot that time.

Never had Bruce imagined himself kissing the Joker. Not even in his worst nightmares, and yet here he was, moving his lips slowly against the others. The clown's lips were surprisingly soft. Finally he pulled away, praying in his heart of hearts that the city knew what he sacrificed for her. "Come on, sleepyhead. Time to get up. Bath and then, if you'd care, I'll take you into the city for lunch. How does that sound?" He offered, taking momentary solace in how well the criminal was behaving, even if it was somewhat unsettling. Perhaps this truly would work! "Just remember our rule."

"No killing." Joker replied obediently, sitting up with a groan and nodding. "I know, I know. I'll behave myself, cupcake. Just for you." He was surprised to find that he actually meant it too. An odd feeling had settled in the criminals stomach, even as he stretched out atop the other and yawned once more, savouring for one more second the feel of a body against his own. It wasn't his Batsy, but he could almost imagine that this was what his beloved vigilante was like under that mask of his.

 _Batman._

The thought was a sobering reminder of why he was doing this. Of why he did anything really. Yet, no matter how hard he tried to make the Caped Crusader see, the other was blind to his feelings. And while he adored playing their games, he'd gladly give it all up if his beloved vigilante would just notice his feelings. At least he had the Wayne boy for now. This was his last ditch effort to catch Batman's eye.

And he supposed he could certainly do worse than having a billionaire at his beckon call. Not that he didn't know the dark haired man was only doing this to protect himself and his family. It didn't matter. That tender affection, especially from someone who so likely despised him, made him feel a warmth he'd forgotten he knew. Ah, what a breath of fresh air something other than violence was!

With one last groan, Joker forced himself to his feet, fingers tugging idly at wild curls. "Alright, I'm up. Admittedly, a bath sounds pretty nice." A wicked little smile tugged at his lips, as he walked his fingers up Bruce's thighs slowly, eyes still half lidded and tired. "You going to bathe me, cupcake?"

* * *

It had taken some work, but forty minutes and one bath later, Bruce found himself staring in stunned silence. The makeup the clown so often wore had been delicately washed off by his own hands, leaving the man looking younger and far less intimidating. He'd even sat still long enough to let Bruce gingerly brush his knotted curls, jade locks back in a loose ponytail at the back of his head. It'd been a little harder for Bruce to find him a suit that would fit, but Alfred easily found one that was far too small for the heir himself.

The result was… Surprising to say the least. "You look…" Bruce trailed off as though in a daze, the only word coming to his mind was a quiet 'breathtaking', but he didn't dare say it aloud, pushing the thought from his mind. Coughing once, he cleared his throat, offering a hand. "Ready to go, princess?"

He'd never seen the joker look so human before. It was unnerving to say the least. How long had Bruce tried to separate himself from that thought, to keep the Joker no less than a monster in his head? Things were less complicated that way. Once more, he pushed those thoughts from his mind as the clown placed a delicate hand within his own. Right now, he had a job to do. His fingers curled around the other's lightly, giving a small squeeze before leading him to where Alfred and the car were waiting for them.

Alfred wore an expression of disapproval, but said nothing- he only hoped his young master knew what he was doing. Sometimes, however, he found himself angry with the whole situation. This was the boy he had raised since childhood. He wanted nothing but the best for him, and yet time and time again Bruce came back bloody and beaten, giving up everything for a city who could care less if he lived or died. It wasn't right! And this was just one more example of that. Even still, he tried to remain supportive.

"And where am I taking you and your… Guest, Master Wayne?"

Bruce quickly gave the directions to one of the nicer restaurants in town, before turning back to his date. "I thought perhaps after dinner we could go for a walk on the boardwalk… If you'd like, that is."

The dark haired man helped his new lover out of the car, ignoring the gasps and stares as he walked into the restaurant, still firmly holding his hand. He wanted to be sick. The name his father had worked so hard to build, the one Bruce had worked so hard to protect… His reputation was dirt now. Everyone would believe that he had been in cahoots with the joker all along. He didn't so much care what the press would say about his sexuality, he'd never much favoured one sex over the other. All he could do now was pray that the man at his side behaved himself and kept their agreement.

He was pleasantly surprised to find that the Joker seemed to be on even more than his best behaviour. He was incredibly polite, even to the waiter who stared at him in a mixture of shock and disgust. He didn't threaten the women who whispered in fear. No, instead, he simply focused all of his attention on Bruce, offering a smile that the billionaire almost found himself calling charming. He supposed, in this setting, he could understand why Harley had become so entranced with the man. The clown had a certain charisma that he certainly couldn't deny.

It was something he'd never gotten a glimpse of before. And how could he? Their fights were short- the Joker would run, he would chase, and it would be over usually in ten minutes. Not to mention he saw him at his worst, when people were in danger. It was hard to think of the Joker just being a man, one with interests, charisma, personality. One with a past.

And yet here they were.

And as Bruce listened to "Jack" tell stories and make light hearted jokes…

… He found a smile tugging at his lips.


	4. Chapter 4

It was only after Bruce had fallen asleep, his breathing shallow and steady, that the Joker slipped from the bed, sliding his arm from around his lover's waist. It would be easier than he had expected to simply stay in the cozy bed, curled up in those strong arms that wanted to hold him close, offering more affection than he'd had in years. But he knew. He had the real prize to focus on, he couldn't allow himself to be caught up in the game.

Not him.

Still, he found himself leaning down, pressing a gentle kiss to Bruce's head, before slipping out of the room.

Bruce listened to him go. He waited until the footsteps had retreated down the hall, before following suite, padding to the grandfather clock that served as a hidden entrance to the batcave. All he could do was pray that whatever the Joker had planned, he'd remember their agreement. No killing.

He'd take his time and wait. The last thing he wanted to do was act too quickly and give away who he really was. Besides, it would do no good to catch the other man before he'd even done anything wrong.

It was an hour before something finally came across the scanners. A bank robbery in process, courtesy of none other than his clown. Sixteen hostages, some children. The Joker was demanding he come, swearing to see no others but Batman.

As if he didn't know the bat would comply.

Ten minutes later, Batman was staring the villain down coldly, fists clenched at his sides. "Let them go, Joker. You've got me here, and they've served their purpose."

A wicked, slow smile slid across the clown prince's lips, tongue darting out to run across his lips in a tic that sent shivers down the vigilante's spine. "Tsk, tsk, darling, you don't have to be so cold. The children will think Daddy doesn't love mommy anymore." He teased, before turning his attention to the clown masked men around the room. "You heard Daddy, boys. Let em go. Then make yourself scarce."

"But boss-"

"Did I stutter?!" The low growl was enough to illicit whimpers from both the hostages and the henchman, who quickly complied, seeming just as surprised as Batman himself did with Jokers strange behaviour.

Sharp blue eyes watched until the last hostage was safely out, before turning his attention back to his nemesis, staring in blatant shock. "You actually let them go."

"Course I did, sweetums." A mischievous giggle escaped the smaller man's lips as he pressed his lithe body against a Kevlar encased one much bigger than his own, letting his fingers walk across broad shoulders.

"I promised my new man I wouldn't kill anybody."

"New man…?" Batman echoed. It'd be best to play dumb, to let the clown do whatever it was he was planning here. Especially since he'd managed to keep his promise. Deep down, buried inside the suit, Bruce's chest swelled with reluctant pride in his lover. He hadn't truly thought him capable of resisting. Still, he forced that back down. Now was not the time. "And who would that be?"

The smile only grew. " _Bruce Wayne._ Jealous, Batsy? Oh, don't worry, I still love you plenty, cupcake, but you've been _oh so_ mean lately." Pouting slightly, he gave a little huff. "Why, you've made me feel like you don't love me at all! That simply won't do- a girl has needs, you know. Oh and darling Brucie is such a dear!" Emerald eyes remained locked on blue, taking in every detail of the others reaction, from the way his eyes narrowed to the slight twitch at his lips.

"Funny," Batman replied, voice hardening without him even realizing. "I've never pinned you for the type to want to be some airhead billionaire's arm candy. Why Wayne though? Why go through all the trouble of kidnapping him?" He questioned. Not that he had truly been kidnapped, but still- it was a valid question, one Bruce had been wondering as well, even as he cradled the clown in the darkness, nose buried in emerald curls.

"I didn't kidnap him!" The Joker scowled, stabbing through his hair in an attempt to settle himself. "He agreed to be my man if I don't kill anybody. God, Bats, is it really so hard to believe someone might want me?"

He tried hard to hide the edge of hurt that crept into his voice, but the vigilante still heard it, biting back a wince of remorse. Perhaps that _was_ unnecessarily cruel, he _had_ agreed after all.

"Besides, he's _good_ to me. Unlike you. Takes me to dinner and everything. But don't worry, Batsy, I'm still willing to forgive you. After all, we all make mistakes, right?" Joker's voice was almost pleading, slowly walking his fingers up the others chest to wrap around his neck. "Where would I be without my other half, after all?"

"I'm not your other half!" The vigilante hissed. A dark feeling bubbled up inside of him as he removed the clown from his chest, coiling and clenching in his stomach. Fingers lingered for only a moment before pulling away as though scalded. "What is your endgame here?" He demanded with a scowl.

"Nothing… Going home to Bruce…" The green haired man muttered as he pulled back, face scowling. "At least there is someone waiting for me there."

With that, he turned, disappearing into the night and leaving Batman staring after him, confusion clouding his mind.

The Joker was as quiet as possible as he slipped into Wayne Manor, feet padding silently down the halls. He didn't want to wake the billionaire up, he knew he was tired lately, and he imagined the Butler that clearly was disgusted by him- Alfred, Bruce had said his name was- wouldn't hesitate to believe he was robbing them if he was found wandering about. A sigh tumbled from his lips, delicate fingers running roughly through emerald locks and giving a small tug, as though it would calm his thoughts.

He wasn't sure he'd ever felt an ache quite like the one he felt now. What? What would it take for Batman to understand that everything he did, he did for him. To give him purpose, to be near him. Batman had been the reason from day one.

A small groan greeted him as he slipped open the bedroom door, the handsome man in the bed shifting to hide his face from the small amount of light, even as he slid over and held his arms out for the other.

It was an invitation the Joker was all too glad to take, craving the affection and care. It wasn't real. But damn, it felt real enough to pretend. Slipping off his coat and shirt and sliding into purple pajama pants, the Joker crawled into the bed, resting his cheek against his lover's chest.

Strong arms wrapped around him, as Bruce nuzzled into his hair lightly, peppering sweet kisses across his temple. A tired smile tugged at his lips as he cradled the other close, tonight truly had taken a lot out of him, and he was all too happy to forget who it was in his arms, to forget their conversation and just savor the warmth of another body. "Nobody's dead right?" He questioned with a yawn, blue eyes growing heavy.

"No, cupcake. No one is dead. I made sure of that, just for you." The man soothed, pressing a soft kiss to the chiselled jaw. "I only held up a bank. Didn't even take the money. It ah- it didn't go as I planned. Go back to bed, Brucie. I didn't mean to wake you." He murmured.

It was a hours before the Joker got to sleep, staring at the ceiling as he tried to make sense of what was happening, as he tried to talk himself through the pain in his chest. Finally, he shut his eyes, rolling closer into Bruce's protective hold. All those thoughts could wait until morning.


	5. Chapter 5

He was not growing fond of the Joker.

Bruce told himself that again and again, even as strong arms slid tenderly under the lithe man's form, lifting him and cradling him to his chest, watching the makeup less face burrow into him, fingers curling into his shirt. Absolutely not. It didn't matter how harmless the clown looked having fallen asleep on the couch waiting for Bruce to return home from a meeting, one of the billionaires shirts hanging loose off one shoulder, practically engulfing the small man. Nor the way he'd kept his promise these past weeks. Not even the way the emerald haired man lit up when he arrived home, whispering an excited, "Brucey!"

Jack or not, he couldn't allow himself to forget what this man had done, no matter how easy it was.

"Come on, Jack… Let's get you to bed if you're still sleepy." He murmured, nuzzling the smaller man softly as he carried him towards their room, stifling a laugh when thin arms draped around his neck and clung like a child, refusing to be set down.

"Don't wanna sleep." Came the mumbled protest. "Just want you to hold me a bit, Kay?" There was a pause as a face buried itself in Bruce's neck, sinful ruby lips brushing the skin lightly.

A shiver ran down Bruce's spine, even as he tried to fight it off.

"Alright, Jackie. I've got you, I won't let go." Blue eyes roamed the others curled form, locking onto the ivory expanse of that exposed throat and shoulder. He found himself drawn to a long, ragged white scar, lifting his thumb to brush along it gently.

"Jack?" He questioned softly, continuing to stroke the spot as though his fingers were acting on their own volition. "How did you get this?"

"Hmm?" Jack lifted his head to lock eyes with the other, a quiet mewl escaping his lips as he tipped to allow the younger man better access to the spot. "Oh, that. One of my first fights with Batsy. We were both young and not sure what we were doing then, I suppose. The poor thing was so guilt ridden that he ran. He's gotten much less hesitant about scarring me up now." The ghost of a smile tugged at his lips, as a shudder ran through him, allowing the other to continue his ministrations. "This one isn't so bad, Brucie, I've got others far worse."

A frown tugged at the raven haired mans lips, he remembered all those nights well, but here and now he found himself angry about the marks. Slowly, as not to startle the other, he ran his lips along the mark, tracing every inch of it as though trying to erase some hidden pain resting there. "Please show me the others." He murmured, even as large hands lifted to the buttons of the long shirt, beginning to carefully unbutton them. "Why would Batman do this to you?" He questioned, memorizing each jagged scar and painful ridge, the guilt ridden questions he'd asked himself countless times now falling from his lips. "He's supposed to be a protector… Jack, why do you let him do this to you, baby?"

Nothing could have prepared Bruce for his lover to look up at him, eyes holding a sincerity he'd never encountered before as Jack murmured, "When you love someone like I love Batsy, you take them flaws and all. He doesn't see that, but I do. I take him for what he is, and for what he needs me to be."

"And what does he need you to be?" Bruce questioned, voice hoarse as another tight ball of guilt and unease grew in his stomach. The Joker claimed to love him. Any other time, he'd brush it off as a joke, but those eyes…

"The bad guy. My Batsy may hate the things I do, but he needs me to do them. He needs an outlet for all the anger, someone who can match him blow for blow. I'm not fragile, he can't break me like he can others. I push him to be all he can be, because I know if I don't he won't live up to his true potential as what this city needs. It's all for him. It's always been for him, Brucey. He's just so blinded by his morality that he doesn't see it."

Bruce could hear no more. He shifted the other on his lap, crashing his lips into the madman's in a careful, yet desperate kiss. Every ounce of his guilt, of his desire and confusion, he poured into the others mouth, deep and claiming, apologetic and sweet. It was every moment of tender understanding that he had never allowed himself to have with this man until now, every craving he'd buried deep inside of himself for the greater good. The billionaire felt the villain gasp in his arms, crawling closer until their bodies were flush, separated only by the fabric of Bruce's suit as those long, graceful, maddening fingers tangled in raven locks, the clown returning the kiss with every ounce as much fire.

This was dangerous. With every moan breathed into his mouth by the man he claimed to hate the most, he further damned himself. And yet, he couldn't even care, the need to care and take and possess overwhelming him and clearing his mind.

The Joker was breathless when the younger man pulled away, his eyes glazing with want as his tongue darted out, stroking over his lip slowly. " _Wow_ Brucey. I can certainly see why all those girls trip over their feet for you." He purred playfully. "But what on earth did I do to deserve such a nice tre-"

He was cut off as the bigger man kissed him once more, idly stroking his cheek.

"Shhh. No more talking, darling. Just lay back, and let me make it all better." Bruce coaxed, voice silk as he moved to gently lay the other back amongst the pillows, eyes roaming over the others lithe body as large fingers pushed the shirt open farther, exposing all of him.

 _Beautiful._ How had he never noticed that before? Maybe he'd simply never allowed himself to until this moment. His head lowered, lips moving to caress each scar, starting with his chest and working downward.

"Bruce!" The Joker mewled, arching his body up towards those lips, desperate for more contact. Warmth unlike he'd ever known pooled in his stomach, washing through him in waves. He _almost_ felt embarrassment when his cock began to harden, unhindered by the lack of clothing he wore, standing proud and tall against his lover's chest as Bruce continued his exploratory kisses. The chance for shame was quickly stolen as one large hand wrapped around his length, beginning to stroke slowly.

"Bruce, oh god, cupcake _yes_ , just like that! Please please please I need-" the begging fell from his lips without second thought, piercing eyes cloudy with desire as he watched the other before his legs, breath hitching as a deviant mouth, clearly well practiced, joined the hand.

He must have died and gone to heaven. There was no way this was real. Every second of that moist heat drove the criminal to madness, or perhaps to sanity. God, he'd do anything the billionaire asked if this was how his good behaviour was rewarded. It wasn't long before his fingers were clutching the sheets, the others name falling from his lips reverently as he came, seeing stars. Spent, his fingers tiredly reached for the other man, pleased when Bruce joined him, holding him close.

It was so wrong in so many ways, Bruce reminded himself, even as he swallowed his nemesis's seed and moved to lay beside him gathering him into his arms and nibbling at that lily throat until a dark possessive mark appeared. Fuck it. Just once, he wanted to be selfish. Besides, this was _for_ Gotham, rehabilitation was working, the clown was calming down. No, now wasn't the time to think about it. Forcing the thoughts from his mind, Bruce turned his attention back to the man in his arms, his Jackie, and let himself play pretend that they were real.


End file.
